Roman - The Fall of Britannia (46 page)

‘
Gwydion!’ screamed Gwenno as he arrived and threw her arms
around him as he addressed the King.

‘
The
day is lost, Sire,’ he said. ‘If we fight our way to the trees, we
may yet escape.’

‘
There is no escape,’ said Caratacus. ‘Our last stand will be
here.’

‘
Then we will all die,’ said Gwydion.

‘
Perhaps not,’ said Caratacus. ‘I recall you speak their
tongue, translate for me.’

He stepped up
onto a boulder and addressed the fighting men directly to his
front.

‘
Romans,’ he screamed, at the top of his voice, ‘hear my
words.’

Remus stepped
back from the man he had just slain and looked up at the impressive
King. He held up his hand to halt the attack, both sides taking
welcome respite from the slaughter

‘
Who
speaks for you?’ continued Caratacus.

Remus stepped
forward but before he could speak, a voice rang out from behind the
ranks.

‘
I
do!’ shouted the voice, and Tribune Mateus rode his horse through
the carnage to stop alongside Remus.

‘
Sire, leave this to me,’ said Remus quietly.

‘
I
am in command here,’ said Mateus, ‘and it is I who will take this
so called King back to Rome. Do not forget yourself, Centurion, I
am a Tribune and this is my birth right.’

Remus stared at
him in disgust. The Tribune had once again stayed well back during
the fight and now intended to claim the glory.

‘
So
be it,’ said Remus eventually, and stepped back from the
horse.

‘
I
am Tribune Gaius Mateus,’ he called, ‘and I am in command here. Do
you lead these barbarians?’

‘
I
am Caratacus, King of the Catuvellauni,’ he answered. ‘You have
come into my lands and slaughtered my people. Camulodunum is now
probably in Roman hands, yet still you pursue me. What is it that
you want from us?’

Mateus sat up
straight in his saddle.

‘
I
want you, Caratacus,’ he said. ‘Bend your knee to me and I will
spare your people. Fight on, and none of your men will see this
sunset.’

‘
You
obviously do not know me, Mateus,’ said Caratacus .‘I bend my knee
to no man, yet I have no desire for any more of my people to die in
my name. I have an offer for you.’

‘
State it?’ said Mateus.

‘
Meet one on one,’ he said. ‘Two leaders in mortal combat
before the sight of their Gods. If I win, you let my people go, but
I will give myself up. If I lose, then nothing has changed. Either
way your Emperor will have his prize.’

Mateus’s face
fell. He was in a situation he could not easily get out of. There
was no way he would win a fight with this warrior King, yet could
not escape the challenge with any respect intact.

‘
There is no merit in this challenge,’ he stated, looking
around, hoping to see support in the faces of the legionaries at
his back. ‘Your army is defeated. If you don’t surrender, your head
will adorn my spear within the hour.’

‘
It
is a fair challenge,’ called Caratacus, ‘is the leader of such
wolves, little more than a sheep.’

Remus hid a
smirk. This King had talked to Mateus for only a few minutes but
already had his measure. Yet he knew that Caratacus wasted his
breath. There was no way Mateus would fight him.

‘
Enough of this folly,’ shouted an enraged Mateus. ‘This is
your last chance barbarian, ‘Either you surrender to me now, or I
will crucify every last one of you.’

Silence fell as
Caratacus stared at the Tribune. Gwydion drew his sword and stepped
forward.

‘
Let
them come, Sire,’ he said. ‘We will sell our blood dearly and for
every cross they make, they will dig twice as many graves for their
own men.’

Caratacus looked
back at the two hundred or so men that still survived.

‘
Do
not dishonour us, Sire,’ shouted one of his warriors, ‘I would
rather die here than live a slave of the Romans.’ The remainder of
his men took up his shout and all started screaming their
challenges at the enemy. Caratacus held up his hand for silence and
addressed Mateus.

‘
It
would seem you have your answer, Roman,’ he called. ‘Look to your
weapons.’

‘
So
be it!’ answered Mateus and turned to ride back through the
legionary ranks. As he passed Remus, he turned to speak to
him.

‘
Kill them all,’ he said, ‘and bring me his head.’

Remus’s gaze
didn’t leave the face of Caratacus as he answered.

‘
You
had the opportunity to take it yourself,’ he said.

‘
I
could have lost my own,’ hissed Mateus.

‘
You
have lost more than that,’ spat Remus, ‘you have lost the
men.’

Mateus looked
around at the legionary ranks. Most stared at him in disgust. He
turned back to Remus.

‘
You
just do what you are paid to do, Centurion,’ he said. ‘Leave the
men to me. When we get back to the legion, I will have them
dispersed amongst all the shit postings from here to Rome. Now I
gave you an order and I expect you to carry it out. Do you
understand?’

‘
Perfectly,’ said Remus. ‘But you should know this. After I
take this King’s head,’ he paused before looking up to the officer,
‘I will be coming for yours.’

Tribune Mateus’s
face fell.

‘
You
dare to threaten me, Centurion?’ he gasped.

Remus looked
over at the waiting warriors.

‘
Within the hour, those men will be dead,’ he said, ‘yet every
one of them is more of a man than you can ever hope to
be.’

Mateus’s face
contorted with rage.

‘
I
will have you crucified for this,’ he screamed.

‘
Get
from my sight,’ growled Remus, ‘or I’ll kill you where you
stand.’

Mateus wheeled
his horse and rode back down the clearing toward the wood line. He
knew if he could just get to the legion, he could let Nasica know
about Remus’s treachery. Nasica would back him up, after all, he
was a fellow officer and their families were close friends back in
Rome.

Remus estimated
the enemy numbers and ordered the Cohort to surround those who were
left. The six hundred men who were under his command encircled
Caratacus’s two hundred survivors to prepare for the final
assault.

----

The Romans
started to bang their shields again, building up the tension before
the final assault. Gwydion held Gwenno in his arms, staring at the
front rank as they started to close in. A sudden movement caught
his eye and he spun around to stare in confusion as a lone horse
galloped out from the forest edge.

The rider
galloped hard toward the rear ranks of the Romans, his long black
hair streaming behind him in the wind. The man was naked, yet
tattooed from head to foot in multiple designs of blue wode. In
either hand, he brandished a lethal double-edged sword and raised
them high as he closed on the unsuspecting Cohort. A few
legionaries heard the galloping hooves and turned to see the cause,
but their shouts of warning were too late, as at the last moment,
the rider screamed a terrifying war cry and launched himself from
his horse and deep into their ranks. In amongst the confusion, he
managed to kill several legionaries before he was cut down. For a
second, Gwydion was unsure what had been the point of this lone
assault by the strange man, but any uncertainty was quickly cleared
up, when another war cry came from the forest edge. The sound was
repeated from all directions and soon the valley was echoing with
terrifying screams from throats of unseen men. Roman heads were
turning in confusion at the deafening sound and suddenly, over five
hundred horses galloped out from the forest to bear down on the
Cohort of legionaries.

‘
Who
are they?’ shouted Gwenno, hope beginning to rise in her
voice.

‘
I’m
not sure,’ shouted Gwydion ‘but I would guess Silures.’

The riders
smashed into the unorganised rear of the Cohort, closely followed
by hundreds of tattooed foot soldiers. Caratacus realised this was
an opportunity and seized the chance.

‘
Catuvellauni,’ he shouted ‘this is our time, pay them back
for every drop of Britannic blood that stains their hands.’ He held
up his sword. ‘For Britannia,’ he screamed.

With a deafening
roar, the remaining Catuvellauni fell upon the Romans to their
front squeezing them between themselves and the Silures.

The Romans were
immediately at a disadvantage and the fighting broke down into a
widespread melee of individual hand-to-hand conflict. Cassus fought
furiously, slashing and hacking at anything that moved. The enemy
were manic, yet skilled with their weapons. On and on they came and
as soon as he cut one down, another took his place, snarling and
spitting their defiance as they pressed their assault. All around
him men screamed as flesh was hewn apart, both sides uncompromising
in their brutality. Cassus lost count of the men who fell before
his blade, but eventually realised that they were losing the fight
as he and his fellow legionaries became isolated in half a dozen
pockets of resistance. Remus spotted the risk and called out in
Latin.

‘
Cohort, to the outcrop,’ he screamed and all who heard fought
their way to a rocky mound to one side of the clearing.

Finally, Cassus
found himself alongside Remus and fifty other survivors standing on
a rocky knoll, surrounded by thousands of screaming warriors and
realised that there was no way out. Death was
inevitable.

A haunting tone
from an unseen horn echoed over the valley and the assault from the
Silures eased. The lines of blue painted warriors retreated a few
yards back from the bedraggled Roman survivors. To one side,
Gwydion and Caratacus stood alongside each other amazed at the
turnaround in their fortunes.

‘
Why
have they stopped?’ asked Gwenno. ‘Why don’t they finish
it?’

‘
Look!’ said Caratacus, and pointed down the vale.

A column of horses rode slowly through the battlefield
carrying more warriors toward them. Their long black hair fell down
around their shoulders and they were obviously of the same tribe.
Gwydion’s eyes narrowed as they got closer, focussing on the two
lead riders. One was an older man wearing a multi coloured cape and
obviously, a chieftain of some sort, but the focus of his attention
was the second man. He was stripped to the waist, but his hair was
much shorter and his skin was clear of any markings. Gwydion’s eyes
opened
suddenly as he recognised the rider.

‘
By
the Gods,’ he said quietly. ‘It can’t be!’

‘
What’s the matter?’ asked Gwenno

‘
Look,’ he said, ‘alongside their chief, it’s the
Roman.’

The massed
warrior infantry opened up to allow the column through and they
pulled up fifty yards short of the isolated Romans on the knoll.
Prydain dismounted and walked forward.

‘
Cassus Maecilius!’ he called out in Latin.

Centurion Remus
made his way to stand alongside Cassus.

‘
It’s him!’ he spat, ‘the slave-boy. Look at him; he’s even
sided with the barbarians. I always knew he was filth. Find out
what he wants.’

‘
I
am here!’ shouted Cassus. ‘What do you want, Prydain?’

‘
I
would talk with you,’ he said, ‘leave your Gladius and step
forward.’

‘
I
command here,’ interrupted Remus, ‘you can talk to me.’

‘
My
words are for Cassus alone,’ answered Prydain.

Cassus looked at
Remus.

‘
What would you have me do?’ he asked.

Remus considered
for a moment before answering.

‘
Go
and talk,’ he said, ‘but don’t be fooled by his traitorous words.
Remember he deserted his comrades and joined the enemy.’

Cassus walked
forward and waited for the mounted Prydain between the two lines of
opposing combatants.

‘
Drop your sword, Cassus,’ shouted Prydain.

‘
You
come with an army of thousands yet are worried about a single
Gladius,’ stated Cassus.

‘
It
is no secret I am no match for your sword,’ said Prydain. ‘I am
just ensuring I live long enough for you to hear me.’

‘
You
have nothing to say that interests me,’ spat Cassus. ‘The boy I
grew up with is dead to me.’

‘
Perhaps so,’ said Prydain, ‘but before we are finished here,
you will at least know the truth.’

‘
Then speak quickly,’ said Cassus. ‘There is killing to be
done.’

‘
Your sword,’ reminded Prydain.

Cassus made a
show of unfastening his belt and casting it away to one side.
Prydain dismounted and walked to meet Cassus on one of the few
patches of bare earth that wasn’t covered with the dead or
dying.

‘
And
your Pugio,’ added Prydain.